<SPAN name="chap12"></SPAN>
<h3> Chapter 12 </h3>
<p>The questions which I needed to ask before I could acquire even an
outline acquaintance with the institutions of the twentieth century
being endless, and Dr. Leete's good-nature appearing equally so, we sat
up talking for several hours after the ladies left us. Reminding my
host of the point at which our talk had broken off that morning, I
expressed my curiosity to learn how the organization of the industrial
army was made to afford a sufficient stimulus to diligence in the lack
of any anxiety on the worker's part as to his livelihood.</p>
<p>"You must understand in the first place," replied the doctor, "that the
supply of incentives to effort is but one of the objects sought in the
organization we have adopted for the army. The other, and equally
important, is to secure for the file-leaders and captains of the force,
and the great officers of the nation, men of proven abilities, who are
pledged by their own careers to hold their followers up to their
highest standard of performance and permit no lagging. With a view to
these two ends the industrial army is organized. First comes the
unclassified grade of common laborers, men of all work, to which all
recruits during their first three years belong. This grade is a sort of
school, and a very strict one, in which the young men are taught habits
of obedience, subordination, and devotion to duty. While the
miscellaneous nature of the work done by this force prevents the
systematic grading of the workers which is afterwards possible, yet
individual records are kept, and excellence receives distinction
corresponding with the penalties that negligence incurs. It is not,
however, policy with us to permit youthful recklessness or
indiscretion, when not deeply culpable, to handicap the future careers
of young men, and all who have passed through the unclassified grade
without serious disgrace have an equal opportunity to choose the life
employment they have most liking for. Having selected this, they enter
upon it as apprentices. The length of the apprenticeship naturally
differs in different occupations. At the end of it the apprentice
becomes a full workman, and a member of his trade or guild. Now not
only are the individual records of the apprentices for ability and
industry strictly kept, and excellence distinguished by suitable
distinctions, but upon the average of his record during apprenticeship
the standing given the apprentice among the full workmen depends.</p>
<p>"While the internal organizations of different industries, mechanical
and agricultural, differ according to their peculiar conditions, they
agree in a general division of their workers into first, second, and
third grades, according to ability, and these grades are in many cases
subdivided into first and second classes. According to his standing as
an apprentice a young man is assigned his place as a first, second, or
third grade worker. Of course only men of unusual ability pass directly
from apprenticeship into the first grade of the workers. The most fall
into the lower grades, working up as they grow more experienced, at the
periodical regradings. These regradings take place in each industry at
intervals corresponding with the length of the apprenticeship to that
industry, so that merit never need wait long to rise, nor can any rest
on past achievements unless they would drop into a lower rank. One of
the notable advantages of a high grading is the privilege it gives the
worker in electing which of the various branches or processes of his
industry he will follow as his specialty. Of course it is not intended
that any of these processes shall be disproportionately arduous, but
there is often much difference between them, and the privilege of
election is accordingly highly prized. So far as possible, indeed, the
preferences even of the poorest workmen are considered in assigning
them their line of work, because not only their happiness but their
usefulness is thus enhanced. While, however, the wish of the lower
grade man is consulted so far as the exigencies of the service permit,
he is considered only after the upper grade men have been provided for,
and often he has to put up with second or third choice, or even with an
arbitrary assignment when help is needed. This privilege of election
attends every regrading, and when a man loses his grade he also risks
having to exchange the sort of work he likes for some other less to his
taste. The results of each regrading, giving the standing of every man
in his industry, are gazetted in the public prints, and those who have
won promotion since the last regrading receive the nation's thanks and
are publicly invested with the badge of their new rank."</p>
<p>"What may this badge be?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Every industry has its emblematic device," replied Dr. Leete, "and
this, in the shape of a metallic badge so small that you might not see
it unless you knew where to look, is all the insignia which the men of
the army wear, except where public convenience demands a distinctive
uniform. This badge is the same in form for all grades of industry, but
while the badge of the third grade is iron, that of the second grade is
silver, and that of the first is gilt.</p>
<p>"Apart from the grand incentive to endeavor afforded by the fact that
the high places in the nation are open only to the highest class men,
and that rank in the army constitutes the only mode of social
distinction for the vast majority who are not aspirants in art,
literature, and the professions, various incitements of a minor, but
perhaps equally effective, sort are provided in the form of special
privileges and immunities in the way of discipline, which the superior
class men enjoy. These, while intended to be as little as possible
invidious to the less successful, have the effect of keeping constantly
before every man's mind the great desirability of attaining the grade
next above his own.</p>
<p>"It is obviously important that not only the good but also the
indifferent and poor workmen should be able to cherish the ambition of
rising. Indeed, the number of the latter being so much greater, it is
even more essential that the ranking system should not operate to
discourage them than that it should stimulate the others. It is to this
end that the grades are divided into classes. The grades as well as the
classes being made numerically equal at each regrading, there is not at
any time, counting out the officers and the unclassified and apprentice
grades, over one-ninth of the industrial army in the lowest class, and
most of this number are recent apprentices, all of whom expect to rise.
Those who remain during the entire term of service in the lowest class
are but a trifling fraction of the industrial army, and likely to be as
deficient in sensibility to their position as in ability to better it.</p>
<p>"It is not even necessary that a worker should win promotion to a
higher grade to have at least a taste of glory. While promotion
requires a general excellence of record as a worker, honorable mention
and various sorts of prizes are awarded for excellence less than
sufficient for promotion, and also for special feats and single
performances in the various industries. There are many minor
distinctions of standing, not only within the grades but within the
classes, each of which acts as a spur to the efforts of a group. It is
intended that no form of merit shall wholly fail of recognition.</p>
<p>"As for actual neglect of work positively bad work, or other overt
remissness on the part of men incapable of generous motives, the
discipline of the industrial army is far too strict to allow anything
whatever of the sort. A man able to do duty, and persistently refusing,
is sentenced to solitary imprisonment on bread and water till he
consents.</p>
<p>"The lowest grade of the officers of the industrial army, that of
assistant foremen or lieutenants, is appointed out of men who have held
their place for two years in the first class of the first grade. Where
this leaves too large a range of choice, only the first group of this
class are eligible. No one thus comes to the point of commanding men
until he is about thirty years old. After a man becomes an officer, his
rating of course no longer depends on the efficiency of his own work,
but on that of his men. The foremen are appointed from among the
assistant foremen, by the same exercise of discretion limited to a
small eligible class. In the appointments to the still higher grades
another principle is introduced, which it would take too much time to
explain now.</p>
<p>"Of course such a system of grading as I have described would have been
impracticable applied to the small industrial concerns of your day, in
some of which there were hardly enough employees to have left one
apiece for the classes. You must remember that, under the national
organization of labor, all industries are carried on by great bodies of
men, many of your farms or shops being combined as one. It is also
owing solely to the vast scale on which each industry is organized,
with co-ordinate establishments in every part of the country, that we
are able by exchanges and transfers to fit every man so nearly with the
sort of work he can do best.</p>
<p>"And now, Mr. West, I will leave it to you, on the bare outline of its
features which I have given, if those who need special incentives to do
their best are likely to lack them under our system. Does it not seem
to you that men who found themselves obliged, whether they wished or
not, to work, would under such a system be strongly impelled to do
their best?"</p>
<p>I replied that it seemed to me the incentives offered were, if any
objection were to be made, too strong; that the pace set for the young
men was too hot; and such, indeed, I would add with deference, still
remains my opinion, now that by longer residence among you I become
better acquainted with the whole subject.</p>
<p>Dr. Leete, however, desired me to reflect, and I am ready to say that
it is perhaps a sufficient reply to my objection, that the worker's
livelihood is in no way dependent on his ranking, and anxiety for that
never embitters his disappointments; that the working hours are short,
the vacations regular, and that all emulation ceases at forty-five,
with the attainment of middle life.</p>
<p>"There are two or three other points I ought to refer to," he added,
"to prevent your getting mistaken impressions. In the first place, you
must understand that this system of preferment given the more efficient
workers over the less so, in no way contravenes the fundamental idea of
our social system, that all who do their best are equally deserving,
whether that best be great or small. I have shown that the system is
arranged to encourage the weaker as well as the stronger with the hope
of rising, while the fact that the stronger are selected for the
leaders is in no way a reflection upon the weaker, but in the interest
of the common weal.</p>
<p>"Do not imagine, either, because emulation is given free play as an
incentive under our system, that we deem it a motive likely to appeal
to the nobler sort of men, or worthy of them. Such as these find their
motives within, not without, and measure their duty by their own
endowments, not by those of others. So long as their achievement is
proportioned to their powers, they would consider it preposterous to
expect praise or blame because it chanced to be great or small. To such
natures emulation appears philosophically absurd, and despicable in a
moral aspect by its substitution of envy for admiration, and exultation
for regret, in one's attitude toward the successes and the failures of
others.</p>
<p>"But all men, even in the last year of the twentieth century, are not
of this high order, and the incentives to endeavor requisite for those
who are not must be of a sort adapted to their inferior natures. For
these, then, emulation of the keenest edge is provided as a constant
spur. Those who need this motive will feel it. Those who are above its
influence do not need it.</p>
<p>"I should not fail to mention," resumed the doctor, "that for those too
deficient in mental or bodily strength to be fairly graded with the
main body of workers, we have a separate grade, unconnected with the
others,—a sort of invalid corps, the members of which are provided
with a light class of tasks fitted to their strength. All our sick in
mind and body, all our deaf and dumb, and lame and blind and crippled,
and even our insane, belong to this invalid corps, and bear its
insignia. The strongest often do nearly a man's work, the feeblest, of
course, nothing; but none who can do anything are willing quite to give
up. In their lucid intervals, even our insane are eager to do what they
can."</p>
<p>"That is a pretty idea of the invalid corps," I said. "Even a barbarian
from the nineteenth century can appreciate that. It is a very graceful
way of disguising charity, and must be grateful to the feelings of its
recipients."</p>
<p>"Charity!" repeated Dr. Leete. "Did you suppose that we consider the
incapable class we are talking of objects of charity?"</p>
<p>"Why, naturally," I said, "inasmuch as they are incapable of
self-support."</p>
<p>But here the doctor took me up quickly.</p>
<p>"Who is capable of self-support?" he demanded. "There is no such thing
in a civilized society as self-support. In a state of society so
barbarous as not even to know family cooperation, each individual may
possibly support himself, though even then for a part of his life only;
but from the moment that men begin to live together, and constitute
even the rudest sort of society, self-support becomes impossible. As
men grow more civilized, and the subdivision of occupations and
services is carried out, a complex mutual dependence becomes the
universal rule. Every man, however solitary may seem his occupation, is
a member of a vast industrial partnership, as large as the nation, as
large as humanity. The necessity of mutual dependence should imply the
duty and guarantee of mutual support; and that it did not in your day
constituted the essential cruelty and unreason of your system."</p>
<p>"That may all be so," I replied, "but it does not touch the case of
those who are unable to contribute anything to the product of industry."</p>
<p>"Surely I told you this morning, at least I thought I did," replied Dr.
Leete, "that the right of a man to maintenance at the nation's table
depends on the fact that he is a man, and not on the amount of health
and strength he may have, so long as he does his best."</p>
<p>"You said so," I answered, "but I supposed the rule applied only to the
workers of different ability. Does it also hold of those who can do
nothing at all?"</p>
<p>"Are they not also men?"</p>
<p>"I am to understand, then, that the lame, the blind, the sick, and the
impotent, are as well off as the most efficient and have the same
income?"</p>
<p>"Certainly," was the reply.</p>
<p>"The idea of charity on such a scale," I answered, "would have made our
most enthusiastic philanthropists gasp."</p>
<p>"If you had a sick brother at home," replied Dr. Leete, "unable to
work, would you feed him on less dainty food, and lodge and clothe him
more poorly, than yourself? More likely far, you would give him the
preference; nor would you think of calling it charity. Would not the
word, in that connection, fill you with indignation?"</p>
<p>"Of course," I replied; "but the cases are not parallel. There is a
sense, no doubt, in which all men are brothers; but this general sort
of brotherhood is not to be compared, except for rhetorical purposes,
to the brotherhood of blood, either as to its sentiment or its
obligations."</p>
<p>"There speaks the nineteenth century!" exclaimed Dr. Leete. "Ah, Mr.
West, there is no doubt as to the length of time that you slept. If I
were to give you, in one sentence, a key to what may seem the mysteries
of our civilization as compared with that of your age, I should say
that it is the fact that the solidarity of the race and the brotherhood
of man, which to you were but fine phrases, are, to our thinking and
feeling, ties as real and as vital as physical fraternity.</p>
<p>"But even setting that consideration aside, I do not see why it so
surprises you that those who cannot work are conceded the full right to
live on the produce of those who can. Even in your day, the duty of
military service for the protection of the nation, to which our
industrial service corresponds, while obligatory on those able to
discharge it, did not operate to deprive of the privileges of
citizenship those who were unable. They stayed at home, and were
protected by those who fought, and nobody questioned their right to be,
or thought less of them. So, now, the requirement of industrial service
from those able to render it does not operate to deprive of the
privileges of citizenship, which now implies the citizen's maintenance,
him who cannot work. The worker is not a citizen because he works, but
works because he is a citizen. As you recognize the duty of the strong
to fight for the weak, we, now that fighting is gone by, recognize his
duty to work for him.</p>
<p>"A solution which leaves an unaccounted-for residuum is no solution at
all; and our solution of the problem of human society would have been
none at all had it left the lame, the sick, and the blind outside with
the beasts, to fare as they might. Better far have left the strong and
well unprovided for than these burdened ones, toward whom every heart
must yearn, and for whom ease of mind and body should be provided, if
for no others. Therefore it is, as I told you this morning, that the
title of every man, woman, and child to the means of existence rests on
no basis less plain, broad, and simple than the fact that they are
fellows of one race-members of one human family. The only coin current
is the image of God, and that is good for all we have.</p>
<p>"I think there is no feature of the civilization of your epoch so
repugnant to modern ideas as the neglect with which you treated your
dependent classes. Even if you had no pity, no feeling of brotherhood,
how was it that you did not see that you were robbing the incapable
class of their plain right in leaving them unprovided for?"</p>
<p>"I don't quite follow you there," I said. "I admit the claim of this
class to our pity, but how could they who produced nothing claim a
share of the product as a right?"</p>
<p>"How happened it," was Dr. Leete's reply, "that your workers were able
to produce more than so many savages would have done? Was it not wholly
on account of the heritage of the past knowledge and achievements of
the race, the machinery of society, thousands of years in contriving,
found by you ready-made to your hand? How did you come to be possessors
of this knowledge and this machinery, which represent nine parts to one
contributed by yourself in the value of your product? You inherited it,
did you not? And were not these others, these unfortunate and crippled
brothers whom you cast out, joint inheritors, co-heirs with you? What
did you do with their share? Did you not rob them when you put them off
with crusts, who were entitled to sit with the heirs, and did you not
add insult to robbery when you called the crusts charity?</p>
<p>"Ah, Mr. West," Dr. Leete continued, as I did not respond, "what I do
not understand is, setting aside all considerations either of justice
or brotherly feeling toward the crippled and defective, how the workers
of your day could have had any heart for their work, knowing that their
children, or grand-children, if unfortunate, would be deprived of the
comforts and even necessities of life. It is a mystery how men with
children could favor a system under which they were rewarded beyond
those less endowed with bodily strength or mental power. For, by the
same discrimination by which the father profited, the son, for whom he
would give his life, being perchance weaker than others, might be
reduced to crusts and beggary. How men dared leave children behind
them, I have never been able to understand."</p>
<p>Note.—Although in his talk on the previous evening Dr. Leete had
emphasized the pains taken to enable every man to ascertain and follow
his natural bent in choosing an occupation, it was not till I learned
that the worker's income is the same in all occupations that I realized
how absolutely he may be counted on to do so, and thus, by selecting
the harness which sets most lightly on himself, find that in which he
can pull best. The failure of my age in any systematic or effective way
to develop and utilize the natural aptitudes of men for the industries
and intellectual avocations was one of the great wastes, as well as one
of the most common causes of unhappiness in that time. The vast
majority of my contemporaries, though nominally free to do so, never
really chose their occupations at all, but were forced by circumstances
into work for which they were relatively inefficient, because not
naturally fitted for it. The rich, in this respect, had little
advantage over the poor. The latter, indeed, being generally deprived
of education, had no opportunity even to ascertain the natural
aptitudes they might have, and on account of their poverty were unable
to develop them by cultivation even when ascertained. The liberal and
technical professions, except by favorable accident, were shut to them,
to their own great loss and that of the nation. On the other hand, the
well-to-do, although they could command education and opportunity, were
scarcely less hampered by social prejudice, which forbade them to
pursue manual avocations, even when adapted to them, and destined them,
whether fit or unfit, to the professions, thus wasting many an
excellent handicraftsman. Mercenary considerations, tempting men to
pursue money-making occupations for which they were unfit, instead of
less remunerative employments for which they were fit, were responsible
for another vast perversion of talent. All these things now are
changed. Equal education and opportunity must needs bring to light
whatever aptitudes a man has, and neither social prejudices nor
mercenary considerations hamper him in the choice of his life work.</p>
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